


i don't wanna think about the distance (i just wanna be in your existence)

by bechloehuh



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 10:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechloehuh/pseuds/bechloehuh
Summary: In the end though, Beca still hates how things ended. How there was no yelling, no smashed picture frames, no holes punched into the wall out of anger. There was nothing but tension and unshed tears that didn’t fall until there was a door between the two of them.Beca regrets it all but most of all, she regrets not fighting for Emily to stay.





	i don't wanna think about the distance (i just wanna be in your existence)

Beca’s always prided herself on her ability to hide her emotions from pretty much anyone, but when Chloe comes to her one day and asks if she’s okay – “if you’re _really_ okay, and tell me the _truth_ , Beca” – she figures that there are changes that need to be made, asap.

Like toning down the moping, for a start, and cleaning her apartment, and actually going somewhere that isn’t work or the pizza place down the street.

And okay, she’s not a complete mess. She still hangs out with Chloe, and sometimes Theo – though she’s not sure if he counts since he’s her boss – and she even makes conversation with the receptionist at work like, once a week, so. She’s doing fine.

Except she’s not. She knows she’s not. And Chloe does too. Which is why they’re both currently sitting on Beca’s bedroom floor trying to sort out her dirty clothes from her clean ones.

Chloe throws her a white shirt which is turning grey and tells her to put it onto the dirty pile, and Beca sighs.

“You’ve thrown this to me three times now Chlo, I’m–”

“–It needs to be washed!”

She looks down at the fading green letters on the once–white background of the shirt, running her fingers over the letters on the Barden University logo.

“Beca!” She jumps, looking up at Chloe who is now standing above her, looking down at her with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face.

“What?”

“Put it in the laundry basket.”

“I…” She knows she has to. She knows keeping the shirt that still has the faint smell of Emily on it is a bad idea, especially when she’s been doing so well. (As well as she can, given the circumstances.)

But it’s not her fault, really.

It’s not like she kept the shirt on purpose just because it smells like her. It’s not like she thinks of her when she’s trying to sleep at night – still trying to adjust to a life without someone sleeping beside her for the first time in years. It’s not like she purposely thinks about the kiss that Emily left on her lips in the doorway of their home – _her_ home – before she left for good. An unspoken promise of ‘I love you, I always will’ lingering in the air – neither of them being brave enough to say it.

She always was a little afraid of love. She hates that the one person who she thought would never hurt her has rekindled that fear.

More than ever, she hates that she can’t go a day without thinking about her; wondering how she’s doing and if she misses her too; if she even thinks about her at all, and if she ever loved her in the first place.

She knows she did.

Maybe she still does.

“Beca.”

She can’t think about that though. It’s not fair.

“Happy?” she asks Chloe, throwing the shirt into the laundry basket, causing the pile of clothes to topple over. She hears Chloe sigh and she immediately knows what’s coming.

“Maybe–”

“–Don’t. Can we just not do this?”

“What?”

“You– everyone… Just. You’re all dancing around me. Ever since. Just.. stop it, okay?”

“We’re w–”

“–Worried about me, I know, but I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

/

The worst thing about the breakup is how quick it happens.

One minute they’re waking up in bed together, all smiles and lazy kisses and whispered _good morning_ ’s, and the next minute Emily is leaving to get into a cab to the airport, a one-way ticket to L.A. in her coat pocket.

Maybe it went a little slower than that, but if Beca thinks about it too hard she’ll end up crying and she’s _just_ finished getting ready for a job interview so she’d rather not.

In the end though, Beca still hates how things ended. How there was no yelling, no smashed picture frames, no holes punched into the wall out of anger. There was nothing but tension and unshed tears that didn’t fall until there was a door between the two of them.

Beca regrets it all but most of all, she regrets not fighting for Emily to stay.

/

The first family event she attends without Emily is painful, as she’d expected.

Her little cousin, Kyle, asks her where Emily is as soon as he arrives at Thanksgiving dinner and even though her aunt tells him to go play in the yard with the dog and to stop bothering Beca, it still doesn’t make her feel any better.

She excuses herself to go to the bathroom and she has to stare at the ceiling for five minutes because God damn it, she’s cried over her too many times and she doesn’t want people knowing that she’s not okay.

Still, the comments her mom makes about how much she misses Emily’s cookies that she’d bring every year, get to her more than she wishes they would, because yeah, she misses the cookies too. She manages to laugh it off and change the subject but there’s still a heavy feeling weighing down on her chest when she feels Kyle nudge her arm and ask her if she’s okay.

“I’m fine, bud,” she tells him with a smile, before continuing to move her food around her plate in hopes that it’ll look like she’s eaten some of it.

/

The thing about breakups is, not only do you lose someone you love – someone you’ve seen practically every day for five years and who you never thought you’d lose – but your whole life is messed up a little. It’s tilted on its axis slightly, and you have to readjust; to start a new life without that person that you’ve given everything to. You go back to sleeping alone and showering alone, and only ordering two Taco Bell cheesy roll ups instead of four.

Sometimes Beca still sets two places out for dinner and she doesn’t realize what she’s done until she’s plating the food up and she’s about to yell “come on Em, food’s ready!”

It’s like a stab in the gut every single time she realizes that the things she’s doing, she’s doing for someone who isn’t here anymore.

Like automatically taking two mugs out of the cupboard on a morning, waiting for Emily to come out of the bedroom with messy hair and tired eyes. Or waiting at the door while Emily is, without a doubt, running late; her cheek turned, ready for the kiss that Emily will place there before she tells her that she has to go to work. Then she’ll kiss her again and tell her she loves her, before leaving with that cute little finger wiggle that she calls a wave. Every morning, like clockwork.

Only, there’s no Emily running late. No Emily kissing her cheek. No cute little wave or cheeky grin. Nobody but Beca and an empty apartment with coffee that tastes like shit because she could never quite perfect a cup of coffee like Emily could.

/

“Fuck Brooklyn.”

“Aww, you don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. It smells and it’s _expensive_ as hell and I’m pretty sure I just saw a mutated sewer rat.” Chloe laughs, the two of them squeezing onto the subway car together. “And there’s never any space to sit down on the train. Seriously, my legs are killing me.”

“Oh, stop complaining. You’ll get used to it.”

“Remind me why I let you convince me to move in with you?”

“Because,” Chloe pulls her phone out of her pocket to check the time on her phone. “Aubrey moved out, leaving little ol’ me all alone in that big empty apartment.”

“It’s like, the size of a shoebox.”

“Also, because your favorite cupcake store is in Brooklyn?”

“That’s a lie, you know my favorite cupcake store is in Manhattan.”

“Okay then, because I’m your best friend and you love me more than anything?”

Beca rolls her eyes but she’s smiling in what feels like the first time in months and it feels nice, to be in a new city with new surroundings and new people – even if she _does_ hate the smell of Brooklyn.

Though, she thinks she might be able to get used to it. She knows it’ll be good for her, to have a fresh start.

/

Two months into her new job in Brooklyn, and she graduates from coffee–bringer to lunch–picker–upper.

Which is fine. It’s not like she wants to make music or anything. It’s fine. It’s a temporary job five minutes away from hers and Chloe’s dingy little apartment that pays the bills and that’s _it_.

(She doesn’t think about how this is a repeat of the internship she had in her senior year because if she does then she’ll think about _her_ and she doesn’t want to deal with that.)

“Alright Beca, I think it’s time for lunch.”

At least they call her her _actual_ name here.

She picks her backpack up, ready to be handed the list of sandwiches she’ll be getting from the cafe down the street, but when she’s handed a list of burritos and tacos and Crunchwrap Supremes, she frowns.

“What’s this?”

“Lunch order,” her boss says, as if she’s stupid.

“No, I know, I mean, where, um–where’s the Taco Bell?”

“Seriously?”

“I mean, I just moved here like–”

“–Two months ago.”

“Two–yeah. Yeah.”

“Flatbush. _Or_ 4th Avenue, you decide.”

And then he’s leaving and Beca has no idea where either of those places are but he’s having a bad day, so she doesn’t feel like angering him any more than necessary.

When she Googles ‘Taco Bell near me’ and sees that the nearest one is a 25-minute drive, she asks one of her coworkers if she can borrow his car. He’s a creep and he asks her “what’s in it for me?” but all she has to do is glare at him and he tells her that he’s joking and yeah, she can borrow his car if she buys him lunch, and _God_ , she’s really rethinking her decision to move in with Chloe.

She hates to admit it but she misses working for Theo.

/

She never thought the first time she’d hear Emily on the radio, it’d be on a cold Tuesday afternoon as she waits for her order at Taco Bell. But sure enough, Beca isn’t hallucinating – she pinches herself to make sure – and yeah, that’s Emily’s voice alright.

It catches her off guard and she doesn’t have time to process it before she’s being handed her order, and most likely being judged for _how_ much she ordered. She doesn’t really care though, she just needs to get out of there as fast as possible before she ends up having a breakdown.

The drive back to work takes a half hour because of traffic – and an extra five minutes of her sitting in the parking lot wondering if she just dreamed about hearing Emily’s song on the radio – and when she returns, everyone is complaining about their burritos going cold. She wants to make a snarky comment about how maybe next time, they shouldn’t make her drive all the way down to Flatbush when she could’ve just walked to their nearest café and back in fifteen minutes, but she’s still sort of shook up by what she heard at Taco Bell, of all places, so she stays quiet.

On the way home she stops at the liquor store and buys herself two bottles of coconut rum and a pack of cigarettes. She doesn’t smoke them though. She figures that if Emily is slowly killing her then there’s no reason for her to kill herself too.

Later, when she’s a bottle of rum in and much drunker than anticipated, she pulls up the YouTube app on her phone and searches Emily’s name. Well, she types in ‘Rmily JJunk’ but it manages to understand what she’s trying to type, and then there she is, with an official VEVO page and a lyric video that has almost three hundred thousand views.

 **** _I've been hoping somebody loves you in the ways I couldn't_  
Somebody's taking care of all of the mess I've made  
Someone you don't have to change  
I've been hoping  
Someone will love you, let me go

As much as it hurts her heart, she listens to the whole song, and she knows that it’s about her. She knows that there’s no way Emily could have written a song about someone she met in the five months that they’ve been apart; she knows that, as conceited as it sounds, if Emily were to write a song about _anybody_ , it would be her.

She never thought that Emily Junk’s first single would be about their breakup, though. Maybe that’s what hurts the most; that she chose to write about the worst part of their relationship, rather than the happy memories.

/

“Beca?”

“Hi. Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

If it was anybody else asking if she’s okay, Beca would just nod and tell them that she’s fine, she’s just tired, or she’s had a long day at work. But this is Emily, the one person in the world who Beca can’t lie to, and before she knows it, she’s holding back tears and gritting her teeth, trying not to let Emily hear that no, no, she’s _not_ okay.

“I heard your song today.”

“Really?” She sounds excited, and Beca finds herself smiling, ignoring the tear rolling down her face.

“Yeah it was–it was a–awesome.”

“Becs.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s late. What are you doing up?”

She sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Uh, just working.”

She thinks, for a second, that Emily buys it. That she’ll accept it and move on, maybe ask Beca how she’s been or what she’s being doing these past few months – anything to shift the conversation – but she doesn’t. She stays quiet and if Beca squeezes her eyes tight enough she can see her. The cute little gap in her teeth and the flicker of her eyelashes and the natural twinkle in her eye. She can see everything clear as day, like Emily is actually _here_ ; like she hasn’t been at the other side of the country for the past few months.

“I–”

“–Is the song… Is it…?” Emily is silent for a few seconds and Beca is about to swallow her nerves and finish the sentence but then Emily is saying yes, and Beca feels like she can’t breathe. She’s had her eyes squeezed shut for so long that she feels like she’s just got off a rollercoaster – dizzy and breathless – and she knows that it’s the alcohol, and she knows that she really shouldn’t have called her; knows that this was a mistake, and drunk dials never go well.

“You should–”

“Why are we not together, Em?”

She hears Emily sigh and she finally opens her eyes and the tears flow out and she can’t stop them, and she knows that Emily knows she’s crying but she can’t find it in herself to care. She’s been psyching herself up for this conversation for months, but she always knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as she hoped it would.

Still, it hurts when Emily doesn’t respond.

“I know,” Beca says, sucking in a breath. “I know we, uh. I know. Sorry. That was stupid.” She laughs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Em, for everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

“No Bec, please, you–you were perfect. You _are_. You’re–”

“–Em–”

“–You were _so_ good to me, you just know I like, couldn’t keep up with everything that was going on and then with the job offer and the distance thing–”

“–Emily–”

“–and not knowing what to do, I couldn’t–I had to focus on my career, you know? And I know that’s a bad excuse, I know I–”

“–Em, stop! Just… stop talking.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re just making this worse.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry.”

“Sorry.”

She runs a hand through her hair and sniffs up again, and if she was sober she’d be trying to keep the tears in – or at least wipe them away – but she knows it’s a lost cause. She knows she’ll end up crying until Chloe comes home from her date with Chicago and cuddles Beca until she eventually falls asleep.

For now, she’s content to just be here with Emily in silence, because then at least she’s _with_ her.

“Beca.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you called me.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I, um. I’ve missed you. Your voice.” She smiles, and the corners of her mouth twitch because usually a statement like that would make her happy but right now, she feels like she’s slowly breaking to pieces and all she can do is let it happen. “I have. I’m not just saying that.”

“Why don’t we talk anymore?”

“Truth?”

“Always.”

“It…” Emily pauses, and Beca can hear her suck in a breath and let it out slowly, which she knows Emily only does when she’s going to start crying, and the thought of Emily – her Emily – crying on her own has Beca’s heart pounding and her stomach churning.

“Emily–”

“–I hate how much I hurt you by leaving. By not giving you a choice. I-I really hate myself.”

“Ba-Emily. Please, it’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is,” she laughs bitterly, and it doesn’t sound like the Emily she knows, and suddenly all those thoughts about if Emily is doing better without her fly out of the window because she _knows._ She knows she’s not doing better.

“I don’t-um. I don’t know what to say, Em.”

“Let me see you.”

“What?”

“I want to come back to New York. To visit. We can catch up, or–”

“–Yes.”

“Maybe–wait, really?”

“Yes. _Yeah_. God, yeah.” She holds her breath and doesn’t let go until Emily tells her that she’ll book the ticket and then suddenly she’s thinking, maybe this phone call wasn’t a mistake after all.

/

Their reunion is surprisingly not awkward.

Emily immediately points out how Beca hasn’t grown, and Beca is making fun of Emily’s bright red sneakers and then they’re driving back to Beca and Chloe’s place in Chloe’s car that Beca had borrowed in exchange for one song on karaoke night, and suddenly everything feels normal.

She shows Emily around the small apartment and she knows Emily wants to ask why she moved to Brooklyn, but she has a feeling that Emily already knows.

Neither of them mentions it.

Beca pulls up Emily’s song and tries to sing along but she hasn’t listened to it enough times to know the lyrics yet so she tries to make up her own, and maybe it’s weird, that they’re being so _them_ about this whole thing, but Beca doesn’t care. Emily is here, actually _here_ , next to her, singing along to her own single and reminding Beca why she fell in love with her all those years ago, and everything is good again.

Chloe and Emily’s reunion is filled with screams and tight hugs and cheek kisses, and Beca gets pulled into a group hug by Chloe and they all squeeze so tight that Beca thinks she might die.

They plan an impromptu trip to the Brooklyn Aquarium with the rest of the Bellas who are already in New York – Jessica, Ashley, Flo, and Stacie – and Beca feels happy for what feels like the first time in her life. Chloe pulls her to the side and asks her if this is a good idea but Beca’s okay, _finally_ , she’s okay again, so Chloe just lets her be.

She’s watching the sharks with Flo when she feels a poke in her side and she turns around to see Stacie standing with two sticks of cotton candy. Both blue raspberry; both Emily’s favorite.

“Here,” Stacie says, handing her both sticks and then motioning behind her, and Beca follows her line of sight to see Emily standing on her own in front of a huge tank of sea turtles, her hands clasped behind her back as she watches them float around with an amazed smile on her face.

“Hey, give me some fin.”

Emily turns to look at her, the twinkle in her eye still there, but looking a little confused. “What?”

“Noggin’… _Duuuude_.”

A smile forms on Emily’s face and then she’s laughing and shaking her head and Beca is joining in, handing Emily the stick of cotton candy, and Emily doesn’t say thank you but she stands a little closer to Beca and the twinkles in her eyes are back and Beca can feel herself falling deeper but she can’t stop.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Well I’m your–”

Emily’s eyes widen slightly and all Beca can do is cough and hope that Emily didn’t notice her mistake – even though she knows she did – because in the middle of all of this fun and nostalgia, Beca forgot that she’s not Emily’s anymore.

She tries not to think about it.

She stuffs her face with cotton candy and curses it for dissolving too fast.

Still, she makes Emily laugh by staining her lips blue, so she guesses it’s okay.

/

“You guys, I’m having senior year flashbacks!”

Beca remembers watching the new Bellas perform in front of the very tank they’re all standing in front of now as they get their picture taken by a woman who Chloe handed her phone to, all smiling and singing “Bellas for life!” just like at graduation.

All the nostalgia and throwbacks would usually get to Beca but Emily is currently holding her hand – she has been for the past ten minutes – so the only thing she can feel right now is nervous. Just like the first time.

Her grandpa once told her that he fell in love with her grandmother all over again every time they had to part, and Beca never understood how that was possible. That is, until right now.

She can feel Chloe’s excited eyes on her, watching the way Emily drags her toward the gift shop, and she knows exactly what she’s thinking. That this could be the start of _them_ again. The thought of it has Beca smiling so big that all she can do is blame it on the cotton candy making her hyper.

She buys Emily a stuffed clown fish toy, and Emily unoriginally calls it Nemo. Usually Beca would roll her eyes but all she can do is watch, because she’s not sure when she’ll get to see this again; not sure if this is the last time she’ll ever see Emily this happy in person, because of something that _she_ did for her.

/

“Hey Chlo, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Yeah, what’s up Becs?”

“Could you maybe, uh, go home with Stacie? Or like, go to Chicago’s or something?”

“What, why-oh! _Ohhh_ ,” she smiles and nods slowly, and Beca rolls her eyes as Chloe winks at her.

“Dude, not for that, I just wanna talk to her.”

“Sure,” Chloe winks again, this time more exaggerated, “ _talk_ ,” she says, nudging Beca. “Say no more.”

“Alright, cool, see ya–”

“–Wait!” Chloe grabs Beca arm. “Wait, Becs, are you sure? She’s only gonna be in New York for the weekend, maybe–”

“–Chlo, please just let me have this. I just want to spend a night with her. Not, not _that_ kind of night. I just want to be with her, alright?”

“If you’re sure.”

She looks down at the comforting hand Chloe places on her shoulder and smiles, and it settles in that she doesn’t really know what she’d do without her best friend. She can be annoying at times – like, _all_ the time except when she’s buying dinner – but Beca would do anything for her, and she’ll forever be grateful for everything that Chloe has done to help her.

Instead of telling her that though, Beca just smiles, before shoeing her away and hoping that Emily hasn’t left yet.

“You kids have fun!” Chloe tells them when Beca hails a cab for her and Emily to head back to the apartment, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Good _bye_ Chloe.”

/

“You want a drink? I’ve got beer, uh, Chloe has wine but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we have some. Or–”

“–Thank you.”

Beca stops, standing up straight from where she had been leaning over to reach into the fridge for two beer bottles. Emily is leaning with her back against the counter, awkwardly tapping a beat on her thighs, and all Beca can do is smile.

“For what?”

She walks over to the other side of the kitchen and stands next to Emily, using the bottle opener on her keys to pop the caps off the beer bottles before handing one to Emily.

“Today. Just, you know. I really, uh,” Emily’s gaze flickers down to Beca’s lips as she licks them, and Beca feels like the heart that’s been pounding in her chest all day finally bursts. “I had fun,” Emily finishes.

“Me too.”

She didn’t exactly plan the night out, but she still feels like maybe things are going off track. That maybe they should be talking about them, instead of awkwardly sipping at their beers and struggling to get a coherent sentence out as they stand together in the kitchen. Still though, Beca’s not complaining. Emily is _here_ , in her apartment, and things seem like they may go back to normal after tonight; not exactly normal but they’ll be friends and maybe even call and FaceTime each other when Emily goes back to L.A. and most importantly, they won’t be hurting anymore.

“I think we–” Her breath catches in her throat when Emily suddenly reaches out and tucks Beca’s hair behind her ear, before tracing the outline of her face with two fingers. “Em.” She licks her lips again as Emily pushes her hand further back and then she’s cupping Beca’s face and Beca feels like she can’t breathe again. Like if she breathes, or makes one wrong move, Emily will pull away.

She clenches her jaw as Emily runs the pad of her thumb over her bottom lip and it causes goosebumps to form all over her body; causes the hairs on the back of her neck to stand, and her throat to close up, and she’s afraid to speak in case she ruins it.

“Thank you,” Emily whispers, and Beca’s eyes fall shut as Emily presses their foreheads together. She puts her beer bottle on the counter beside them before taking Beca’s and doing the same with hers.

Beca’s hands are free now, but she still doesn’t quite know what to do with them. Usually, if this was five months ago, she’d place them on Emily’s waist. She’d pull her closer, hug her a little tighter, and maybe kiss her neck.

Right now, though, all she can do is stand, and hope to God that Emily doesn’t let go because she can’t promise that her legs won’t completely give in.

“Beca,” Emily whispers, and then her other hand is joining the one she has cupping Beca’s cheek, and Beca knows that her skin is burning, and she knows Emily will be able to feel it, but she can’t bring it in herself to care. All she can do is squeeze her eyes shut a little tighter, step a little closer, breathe a little deeper.

“Please.” It comes out quiet; a hushed whisper that has tears springing to her eyes before she can stop them.

Her hands come up to grab Emily’s elbows because she feels like she’ll fall if she doesn’t have anything to hold onto and then Emily is stepping closer, using both hands to tilt Beca’s head up.

“Kiss m–” and suddenly, Emily is everywhere that Beca wants her to be.

Her lips are just as soft as Beca remembers, but they’re trembling and Beca can’t really do anything to stop the soft sob that comes out of her mouth as Emily wipes her tears with her thumbs. It’s a wet and emotional first kiss but it’s _Emily_ , and Beca’s only sure of one thing, and it’s that she doesn’t want this to end. Not the kiss, not today, and not _them_.

It’s a risky kiss but it’s so naturally _them_ that it doesn’t take long for them to sink into it. To go back to their old tender habits; stroking delicate fingers over soft skin, pulling back slightly, only to pull each other closer, gentle touches and quiet moans, until they can’t find any argument as to why they _shouldn’t_ be doing this.

/

Beca doesn’t sleep.

She’s terrified that she’ll wake up and Emily won’t be there, and she’s not sure if she’ll be able to come back from this. She’s not sure if she’ll be able to carry on pretending like everything is okay if nothing changes between them.

And she knows they’re sitting on borrowed time because Emily is going back to L.A. on Sunday, but Beca needs to be selfish for once and just let herself enjoy this. If it’s the last time, she wants to savor it. If that means not sleeping and listening to the sound of Emily’s soft breathing in the silent room instead, then so be it.

She’s not quite sure what she expects when Emily wakes up, but when she immediately pulls away, Beca can feel her heart breaking all over again.

“Em, please don’t leave.”

“Wha–? What time is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m–”

“–Don’t leave me.”

Emily frowns, wiping her sleepy eyes, before sitting back down on the bed and reaching out to stroke Beca’s cheek.

“I was just gonna go to the bathroom.” Then she’s smiling, burying her hand into Beca’s hair again, and Beca sits up, reaching out to cup Emily’s face to pull her into a kiss. “Come with me.”

“To the bathroom?”

Emily laughs into Beca’s mouth. “Back to L.A.”

“Wha–” Beca pulls back. “Seriously?”

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top? Please. _Please_?”

“Oh my God, yes, fine, jeez, pull my arm why don’t ya?”

“I love you.”

Beca bites her lip to stop it from trembling and then she’s smiling, pulling Emily back down onto the bed and kissing her everywhere; her cheeks and her forehead and her neck and her hair; everywhere, until she kisses the smile on Emily’s face and she knows she probably looks ridiculous because she can’t stop smiling, but she doesn’t care.

“I love you too.”

“Okay, cool! Now, I _really_ need to pee.” Emily grins, pecking Beca’s cheek once more before going to the bathroom, the bounce in her step finally back after five months of dragging her feet across the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm drunk and I am my own beta so I apologize for any mistakes. follow me @ chloebeale on tumblr if u want. peace.


End file.
